The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (40 page)

With that, the Historic God let go of the mainmast
and crawled across the deck to the port. He climbed over the
bulwarks and launched himself off, taking the light with him. When
he disappeared from view, the darkness returned, held in check now
only by Malock and Jenur's lamps.

“Well, that was weird,” said Jenur, looking between
Malock and Kinker. “Do you think he is really going to let us
go?”

“I believe so,” said Malock, his eyes focusing on
the mainmast where the Historic God had been mere seconds ago. “He
would have tried to kill us if he didn't mean it.”

“Then why talk to us at all?” said Jenur.

“I don't know, Jenur,” said Malock. “Perhaps he was
lonely. Or maybe he just wanted to scare us. Either way, I have a
bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.”

***

T
he rest of the voyage through the Tunnel was
completed almost entirely in the dark. Due to the current in the
Tunnel, there was no need to raise the sails or have any of the
crew work. Therefore, before Malock returned to his stateroom, he
gave Kinker and Jenur orders to tell the rest of the crew to stay
below deck until they returned to the open seas.

When Malock returned to his stateroom, he found
Vashnas and Banika waiting eagerly for him. They had apparently
heard his, Kinker's, and Jenur's entire conversation with the
Historic God through the window, which was open, but they didn't
know all the details until Malock informed them. Banika took
particular interest in the news that there was actually another spy
on board the ship, while Vashnas seemed more than a bit disturbed
by the idea that yet another southern god had spared them for
dubious reasons.

Yet the Historic God kept his promise and soon the
Iron Wind
was heading upstream, because for some reason the
water flowed upward in this place. It didn't flow up quite as fast
as it flowed down, however, but they emerged onto the bright blue
ocean soon enough, which was as beautiful as it always was and far
less dank than the Tunnel was.

As soon as they exited the Tunnel, Malock could feel
World's End drawing him towards it. He asked Vashnas if there were
any more islands between them and World's End and Vashnas said that
she doubted it, that it would probably be smooth sailing from here
on out.

Somehow, that news spread quickly throughout the
entire ship before Malock even told anyone else. The tense
atmosphere that had been gradually building up over the last day
immediately dissolved, replaced by nothing more than pure,
unabashed joy at the thought that this mad voyage was finally near
its end.

In fact, though Malock didn't order it, a handful of
sailors started to celebrate a bit too early. Unbeknownst to most
of the crew, the Mechanical Goddess had also given them a lot of
wine—good wine, by the look of it—with the rest of their supplies
and some of the crew had discovered it, brought it top deck, and
were now drinking it and dancing and singing old shanties. It
wasn't until Banika came to Malock's stateroom and informed him of
the impromptu party that he went to see it for himself.

As Banika had described, about half a dozen sailors
had started dancing. Half of them were human and the other half
aquarian, but for once they seemed to have forgotten their
xenophobic tendencies toward one another and simply danced liked
there was no tomorrow. They were old sailor dances, not
particularly elegant or well-choreographed, but that obviously
didn't matter to them. For that matter, the shanties they sung were
coarse and full of vulgarity and sexual innuendos of nearly every
kind.

Despite that, more and more sailors were starting to
join the party and for once Malock didn't tell them not to. He
figured that after all of the crap they had been through over the
past couple of months, they deserved a time to relax and let loose,
at least for today. In fact, he even went and joined them, which
surprised some of his men but no one actually objected to his
presence.

The party went on for hours, well into the night.
Even Bifor came up to watch, although due to still being weak he
mostly just stood and watched, occasionally participating in a song
or sipping some wine but otherwise observing. Malock paid little
attention to the mage, instead dancing with some of his sailors
(including Jenur at one point) and even partaking in a crude little
ditty that Gino informed him was called 'The Sailor's Lust.' (It
was actually similar in content to some of the songs sung in the
Carnagian court, interestingly enough, even though the style was
cruder.)

The sun crossed the sky as the party went on, until
it soon became too dark to see. Luckily, some of the crew found
torches to light (which had apparently been included with the
supply crates that the Mechanical Goddess had given them) and so
they continued to sing and dance by torchlight. More than a few
sailors got drunk, but no one fell overboard, although a handful
did pass out on the ship's deck.

Eventually, Malock got tired and had to take a
break. He made his way to starboard, declining many invitations
from his more drunken men to have 'just another sip' of wine, where
no one was, and leaned against the bulwarks. His knees ached and
his whole body shook with exhaustion, but it was the good kind of
exhaustion, the kind that makes you feel like you did a good long
day of work (or, in his case, play).

“Having a fun time?” said a familiar voice to his
left.

Malock glanced to his left and saw Vashnas sitting
not too far away, with her back against the bulwarks and her legs
up to her chest. She didn't look very happy, nor did she appear to
have partaken in any of the festivities. At least, Malock could not
remember seeing her dancing or singing or drinking, though he
supposed that he may have missed her somehow.

“I thought you were up in the crow's nest,” said
Malock, wiping some wine off his lips. “Why don't you join the
party?”

Vashnas sighed. “I decided to come down and see what
the rest of y'all were doing, considering how loud you guys are. I
should go back up.”

Vashnas stood up, but Malock grabbed her hand,
prompting her to look at him in surprise.

“Yeah, back to the crow's nest with you,” he said in
jest. “In the darkness of the night, where you probably can't even
see your hand in front of your face. Come on, Vash. There's no
reason to spend the night cooped up there alone when you can be
down here with us.”

Vashnas didn't let go of his hand, but her hand did
go slack in his. “I guess you have a point. It's just been so tense
for such a long time that I'm having a hard time adjusting to this
kind of happiness.”

“True, it is rather different from what we're used
to,” said Malock. “But so what? I'd trade my crew of tense,
possibly mutinous men for this crew of joyously drunk sailors any
day of the week.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Vashnas, though her tone
was distracted, like she wasn't listening.

Malock tried to look her in the eyes, but she kept
averting her gaze. “Vash, what's on your mind? I can tell you're
thinking about something. What is it?”

Nearby, some of the sailors had started to play a
card game of sorts. Malock recognized the cards as belonging to his
deck of divination cards, but for the moment he didn't care how
they had gotten them or what game they were playing. All he wanted
to do was listen to Vashnas's problem and find out how he could
help.

She didn't look like she wanted to talk.
Nonetheless, she did say, “I've been thinking about World's End.
I've been thinking about this voyage in general.”

“What about it?” said Malock.

This time, she actually did look at him. “I ... I'm
sorry, Mal, but I can't keep this up. I'm tired of the secrecy
between us, tired of how we've been growing apart ever since
Stalf.”

“You noticed?” said Malock.

“Of course I did,” said Vashnas. “Before Stalf, you
and I had such powerful, unbound love for each other. After Stalf
... well, I sensed you didn't quite trust me as you did before. You
held me at a distance, maybe even hated me. That's why I took on
the job of lookout. I didn't think you loved me anymore and I saw
no reason to try to make you.”

“Vash, that is simply untrue and you know it,” said
Malock. “I love you like the light of the sun.”

“Then why have you not talked to me?” said Vashnas.
“Why have you kept me at a distance? Why have you and I been chilly
with each other?”

Malock bit his lower lip. “Well—“

“I think it's time we be straight with each other,”
said Vashnas. She turned to face him, no longer averting her eyes.
“At least, I should be straight with you. After all the secrets
I've kept from you, it's about time I tell you the truth.”

Malock blinked as the rest of the crowd erupted into
spontaneous applause, which a quick glanced told him was the result
of Jenur performing a difficult dance move. “I knew it.”

“What?” said Vashnas.

Malock pointed at her and said, “I knew you were
keeping secrets from me. Ever since Stalf, I've been suspecting you
of not being entirely honest with me.”

Vashnas frowned. “That explains a lot. I suppose
there is a lot about me that just doesn't add up.”

“You're absolutely correct,” said Malock. “Like why
your knowledge of the southern seas seems to leave out the most
important part: namely, the southern gods. I even began to suspect
that you have never been to the southern seas at all and that you
simply got your knowledge of the southern seas from the various
rumors sailors spread about them.”

Vashnas sighed again, this time more heavily, as if
the weight of a thousand years were on her shoulders. “No, Mal, I
knew about the southern gods the entire time. I just kept their
existence a secret from you out of a misguided desire to keep you
safe.”

Malock looked at her incredulously. “Keep me safe?
How is not telling a man wandering in the darkness about the cliff
he's about to fall over safe?”

“As I said, it was misguided,” said Vashnas.
“Extremely misguided on my part. I was hoping that we could simply
head straight down to World's End, never staying on one island for
too long, and that maybe the gods would not bother us due to your
status as a Chosen One. Evidently, I was wrong about that.”

Malock balled his hands into fists, trying his best
not to get angry but feeling the anger rise up in him like steam in
a tea kettle anyway. “We could have avoided a lot of problems if
you had simply been honest from the start. Maybe even saved some
lives.”

Vashnas looked down in shame. “I know, I know. I
don't think there's any forgiveness for my keeping quiet. In the
next life, maybe I will be punished for all of the blood on my
hands.”

Malock ran a hand through his hair. “Then what is
the truth? Why did you really join my crew? It's not because you
needed the money or because you have a thirst for adventure, is
it?”

In the torchlight, half of Vashnas's face was
covered in shadow, but the half that wasn't, revealed a grim
expression that was out of place in the festive atmosphere. “I
might as well get this out of the way right now. You see, Malock, I
joined your crew for one reason and one reason only: To kill
Tinkar, the God of Fate.”

All of time seemed to come to a halt at that
instant. The boisterous singing of the crew, the sound of their
dancing boots beating against the deck of the ship, the jingling of
coins as sailors traded what little money they had with each other
over the card game ... all of that faded away, replaced by a faint
buzzing sound in Malock's brain that made it difficult to focus on
anything except what he just heard.

He somehow managed a smile, a weak smile, a smile
without any actual mirth behind it, but a smile nonetheless.
“That's a great joke, Vash. Almost had me there for a second.”

“I'm not joking,” said Vashnas. “At all. I'm
completely, one hundred percent serious.”

That weak smile Malock managed? It immediately
disappeared. “You ... are?”

“I know how that sounds and I know what you're going
to say,” said Vashnas, holding up her hands defensively. “Just hear
me out, will you?”

Malock shook his head. “How can I hear you out when
you are suggesting the impossible? I mean, I know some people
dislike the gods, but deicide? That sounds like something only a
madman would ever suggest.”

“I'm not mad,” said Vashnas. “I'm perfectly sane,
thank you very much. Would you at least listen to my story, if
nothing else?”

Malock staggered back against the bulwarks, feeling
his body and mind grow sluggish with fear. “Oh dear ... now it all
makes sense. Tinkar sent a spy on board this ship not to kill me,
but to kill you. And I had no idea ... no idea at all that I was
ferrying an assassin to World's End in order to kill him. By the
gods.”

Bile rose in Malock's throat at the very thought and
he almost threw up, but Vashnas drew closer to him and patted him
on the back, saying, “I know, I know, it sounds crazy. It might
make more sense if you would listen to me first. Could you do that,
at least?”

Malock rubbed his eyes and looked at her, hoping
against hope that maybe this was all just a really weird dream he
was having. Alas, he did not wake up in his bed, back in Carnag
Hall, clutching his pillows like he sometimes did when he had a
nightmare, so he had to conclude that this was in fact reality.

“Okay,” said Malock, taking a big gulp of air. “You
can tell me your story. I'll listen. If I seem zoned out, it's
because ... you know, deicide.”

Vashnas nodded. “I knew you probably wouldn't react
well to my tale, but you seem absolutely sick. Do you really
respect Tinkar
that
much?”

“It's nothing to do with Tinkar,” said Malock, “and
everything to do with the very idea of deicide. It is the ultimate
act of treason against the gods. I cannot even imagine it.”